Perfect Couple?
by AfewSentencesShortOfaParagraph
Summary: This is Umbrella- Parts 1 and 2 in Eli's point of view. Enjoy it, my dear readers!
1. Chapter 1

**I ****do**** claim that I ****don't**** own Degrassi. I bet that just blows your minds. **

**Anyway, welcome readers, to the first half of Umbrella- Part 1. I'm so jazzed to write it, so I hope you're just as excited to read!**

**I'm picking up exactly where I left off in my last story, so Eli just walked away from Clare in the hall; everyone with me? Okay, good. Enjoy! =D **

I quickly pushed through the throng of students toward my history class using every last ounce of my willpower not to look back at Clare. Her words continued to slice though me, leaving me shaking with anger and pain. She thought I was screwing her up; she was using me to piss off her parents. Never in a million years would I have thought Clare was able to be that deceptive, and I was still reeling from everything that had happened in the past day. I wished, so bad that it literally hurt, for all of this to be a huge mistake; a jumbled misunderstanding.

But it wasn't.

I slid into my desk, and placed my head in my hands- trying to block out the world around me. I heard the teacher start their lesson, but I didn't even pretend to pay attention today. Just two nights ago Clare and I had been locked in a haze of first date bliss and now we were…what? Not together anymore? Just thinking about not being with her was more painful than Clare's actual actions had been. So, fine, breaking up with Clare was not a viable option right now, which meant that we would have to find a way to work this out.

However, even though I did want to fix this with Clare, I couldn't stand to face her just yet. I wasn't calm enough and I would only say things I would regret; make the situation worse. So I spent the rest of History dreading English.

My dread was unnecessary, though. When I walked into the classroom at the very last minute Clare's desk was vacant. Crippling disappointment shot through me before my rational mind caught up with the implications of Clare's absence. '_It's good that Clare's not in class_,' I reminded myself. '_This is what I wanted_.' Still, I wondered where she was, slightly worried.

"Hey," I whispered to Adam as Ms. Dawes began to teach, "Do you know what happened to Clare?"

"I guess she was sporting some seriously inappropriate threads, so they sent her home to change," Adam informed me, eyeing me intensely. "Are you okay man?"

I tried to stop myself from wincing under Adam's scrutiny, but I cracked. "I will be," I answered honestly, "There's just some trouble in paradise." I cringed at the understatement, thinking again about the damage Clare's 'alter-ego' had caused.

"I will require more detail than that, good sir," Adam raised his eyebrows at me, "at lunch." Without waiting for me to respond he turned his attention to the front of the room. I sighed, not really wanting to give out a whole lot more information. I had just lived it, so I wasn't too keen on reliving it so soon. Except, I guess it didn't make a difference since I couldn't take my mind off of the subject for more than five minutes.

The rest of my morning classes past by in the same fashion as the first two- I focused on Clare and not on class. It was amazing I still managed to get good marks since I had met Clare.

Then, finally, lunch time reared its ugly head. As soon as I walked into the cafeteria I saw Adam watching the door from our usual table, awaiting my arrival. I rolled my eyes before slowly walking over to join him. "Hey," I started cautiously, slipping into my seat. I glanced quickly at Clare's empty chair and exhaled gruffly.

"Yeah, it's weird for me not having Clare here, as well," Adam commented slyly, taking notice of my fixation, "She does…did?...have a perfect attendance record."

"I know," I said, more sharply than I intended. Adam's eyes narrowed at me. "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound so bitter," I apologized softly.

"Understandable. Let's talk about that," Adam said pointedly.

"Why?" I unsuccessfully tried to keep the whine out of my voice.

"Because I know and care about both you and Clare, so I have your best interest at mind. I can give you advice; help you sort things out. I can tell from the look on your face that this is ripping you to sheds. What the hell happened, Eli?"

"That's a valid argument," I said, slightly disappointed that he had a good point. He gestured for me to continue. "Last night," I began, "at dinner Clare wasn't herself at all. She told her parents that I was an atheist, mocked my home life, harassed Morty, and informed her parents that we skipped school. Needless to say, they weren't too thrilled with me after that. I was pretty mortified, not to mention mystified, by Clare's actions. They had made no sense at all. It was like she wanted her parents to hate me." I took a deep breath, flinching as I remembered just how horribly it had been sitting at that dinner table. "Then, this morning," I continued hesitantly, "she came to me, dressed completely unlike herself, and acted like there was nothing wrong at all. I think she tried to seduce me, I yelled at her, and that finally broke through to her old self. She told me she was scared that her parents were going to get divorced, and that she had acted strangely at dinner because if they were both mad at her, her parents had something in common. When I told her that it didn't matter; that they had made their decision already Clare basically told me that I was screwing her up. So I walked away. I told her I didn't want to play that game."

I usually felt relief after I had spilled my guts to Adam, but my recount of the whole situation had left me exhausted. I dropped my head onto the table in defeat. I had no clue what I was going to do about this mess.

"Well…," Adam started, "shit."

I lifted my head off the table to glare at him. "So helpful," my sarcasm was strong, dripping from both words.

"Sorry, man, I guess I just thought this was going to be an easy fix. But no wonder you look like hell. This is big." Like I didn't already know that; I let my head drop back down to the table with a satisfying _thunk_. "I guess you guys should both just have some space, and then talk about it later. None of that really sounds like Clare, so I'm sure she'll come to her senses. And, remember, if her parents really are going to get divorced you have to cut her a little slack. That's tough for anyone to go through, and it can really make you do irrational things. It's not all Clare's fault."

I sighed knowing Adam was right. I picked my head back of the table to look at him in wonder. "How is it that you always know exactly what to say to me?"

"Dude, we're best friends, I just know you well. Nothing to it." I graced him with a genuine smile. Adam was great, and I continuously lost sight of how lucky I was to have him as a friend. He smiled back at me, and just for a moment I forgot all about the problematic turn my relationship with Clare had taken.

XXX

When school finally ended I drove back home, but the serene feeling I had at lunch had long-since vanished. I simply could not sit still, pacing back and forth. I was glad that, for a reason unknown to me, my parents were not home. It gave me the freedom to act like a caged animal without having to deal with stares of questioning concern.

After an hour or so of the pacing and general restlessness I decided to hop into Morty and go to the park. However, there was a knock on my door, and I had to alter my plans.

"Who the hell could that be?" I asked the air around me, walking slowly to the door. I pulled it open to reveal…. "Clare?"

She had changed out of the obscene clothing she had on earlier- now clad in pastel striped pajama bottoms and an oversized purple hoodie. All the makeup that she had caked on for school had been washed away. She was also sobbing uncontrollably. For that moment I forgot all about my rage at her and reacted immediately in a concerned manner. I grabbed her hand, pulling her inside the house and gently shut the door behind her. Then I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, holding her against my chest. She relaxed against me, but continued to sob.

After a few minutes passed by I decided it was time to speak up. "Clare, what happened?" I whispered to her softly.

"I…don't…think I can…talk about…it…right now," she choked out, sniffling uncontrollably.

"Does it have to do with your parents?" I asked her, already suspecting her answer. She simply nodded against my chest, another sob breaking free. She was going to hyperventilate if I didn't calm her down soon. I slowly released her, and she whimper softly obviously not wanting me to let go. "I have to get you a glass of water," I reassured her, leading her to the couch. She obediently sat down on it, and brought her knees up to her chest. I paused a second to really look at her- her hair was sticking out in several different directions, the curls matted and knotty; her blue eyes were swollen and dark, the red circles around them only intensifying the color; her tiny nose was red and rubbed raw; her cheeks were bright pink, and stained with her tears. And yet, she was so beautiful because she looked just like my Clare. I found no traces of the evil, reckless Clare that had possessed her for the past two days, and for that I was thankful.

"What?" she asked, suddenly growing self-conscience. Her voice was thick with the tears that still ran silently down her face.

I just shook my head at her and reached out to smooth down a curl that was sticking straight out. Her face turned a deeper shade of pink, and I ran to the kitchen to fill a glass with some water. On my way back to Clare I grabbed a box of tissues as well. I handed her the glass of water first. "Drink," I commanded, and she did so hesitantly. When she was done with the glass I grabbed it from her hands, replacing it with the tissue box.

Once I returned from refilling her glass I placed it on the coffee table, and sat down next to Clare on the couch.

"Thank you," the emotion was very raw in Clare's voice. Then she started to speak so quietly that I had to strain to hear her, "I don't know why you're being so nice to me. I've treated you like crap for the past day. I'm not even sure why I came here…I guess my legs knew where they wanted to go before my head had time to catch up."

"Did you walk here?" I asked her incredulously. She nodded. "I bet that was a sight to see," I joked, "sobbing girl dressed in bright purple wanders aimlessly around the neighborhood. Parents, watch out for your children's safety." I did my best impression of a reporter, letting my voice drop a few octaves so it was deep and velvety.

"This is not a time for jokes," Clare chastised me, but it had worked. I got her to smile a small, weak smile.

"What is it a time for, then?" I asked her seriously, meeting her gaze.

"Apologies," Clare whispered, abashed. I raised my eyebrows waiting for her to continue. "I am so sorry, Eli. I know that apologizing won't fix the way I have treated you. You didn't deserve it. And I know it's no excuse, but my parents have just made me so irrational lately. I wasn't thinking straight, and because of that I've hurt the one person that means more to me than anyone in the world. Eli, I am so, so sorry. Please, could you ever forgive me, even though I don't deserve it at all?" She let the words rush out of her mouth so quickly; like a dam breaking loose. I had a hard time keeping up. And when she reached the end of her apology she burst into tears all over again.

"Hey, Clare," I let worry seep into my tone. She looked like she was about to go into hysterics. "Settle down," I requested, pulling her into my lap, and wrapping my arms around her waist. She settled her head on my shoulder, gasping. I could tell she was desperately trying to slow her tears. With great effort I was able to reach Clare's water glass without jostling her too much. I handed it to her, and this time I didn't even have to tell her to drink. She gulped it down quickly, and then sighed.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven," she murmured brokenly, hopefully.

"I was angry at you Clare- unbelievably so. But, lucky for you, I have a hard time retaining any anger that I may harbor toward you." She relaxed, pleased by my answer, and turned her head to place a soft, tentative kiss on my neck. "I do have one question, though," my eyebrows came together as I remembered the fight we had earlier that day.

"Ask me anything," Clare said, happy to oblige my request.

"Do you really think I'm screwing you up?" I let my hurt color the words. After all, out of everything Clare had said and done in the past 24 hours that had bothered me the most. How could we continue to have a relationship if Clare thought I was messing up her life?

Clare chuckled darkly. "Of course not. I should have known my words could easily be misinterpreted. I wasn't thinking straight, and I said things I shouldn't have. On the contrary, you are the best thing in my life right now."

My heart swelled at her words. "And you, in mine," I told her honestly. I felt her sigh happily, and nothing else needed to be said. The moment was perfect. We sat there together for a while, and eventually, Clare drifted off the sleep- her breathing growing steady and deep. I tightened my grip around her waist, pulling her closer to me. "I love you, Clare Edwards," I whispered into her hair, but she didn't make any movement- stuck in the world of dreams.

XXX

When the clock struck seven, I shook Clare out of her slumber. She sat up dazed and confused, not sure where she was. "I need to take you home, Clare," I told her, and she simply nodded and stood, stretching.

"How long was I out?" She asked, her voice coated in sleep.

"I let you sleep for an hour and a half," I admitted. "You just looked so serene I could barely stand to wake you. But your parents will probably start to worry if I don't get you home soon."

A dark mask fell over Clare's face. "My parents…," she winced to herself. I was ragingly curious to ask her what had happened, but I didn't want to pry. She had been through enough this afternoon- I could see it clearly written on her face.

"Morty's waiting out front," I told her gently. She still had a sour expression on her face, and she seemed to be rooted to her spot in my living room. "Come on," I chuckled, walking toward her and grabbing her hand. She put up a slight resistance before letting me tug her out the front door.

I pulled up to her house shortly after, all the lights were off in the front room. Clare didn't make a move to get out; she just sat in Morty staring at her house almost like it was intimidating. "Clare, it's not going to eat you. You have school tomorrow; you're going to have to get out," I said, laughing. She turned on me and narrowed her eyes unimpressively. I smirked at her. "If you don't get into your house soon I will be forced to use my phone to take a picture of how adorably discombobulated you are right now."

She gasped. "You wouldn't!"

"Try me," I challenged.

She looked me squarely in the eye before deciding if I was serious or not. When she had determined that I was dead serious, she slumped her shoulders in defeat. "Fine, I'll go. See you tomorrow in school."

She started to climb out, but I grabbed her arm. "Aren't you forgetting something?" I waggled my eyebrows at her.

She looked around the hearse, confused. "No?" she questioned.

"My goodnight kiss," I reminded her.

"Oh, right! How silly of me," she let a small smile curl up the edge of her lips. "Goodnight, Elijah." Then, ever so softly, she pressed her silky pink lips against mine. She tasted salty because of all the tears she had cried, but I didn't mind. I parted my lips, and trapped her full bottom one in between my own, sucking on it gently. She giggled, and slowly pulled away, allowing me to savor every last moment.

"See you tomorrow," I whispered against her lips before pulling away entirely, and shifting Morty into Drive. Clare slipped out of the car, and cautiously walked into her home. I sighed before driving away. '_You'll be the death of me yet, Clare-bear_,' I thought to myself. I had never known anyone else to be so irresistible.

XXX

The next morning, I slowly got dressed in my uniform as I thought about last night. I was glad that everything was back in its right place again. My universe was once again in order, and Clare and I were still going strong. I couldn't picture the events of last night going any better than they had.

When I arrived at school I slowly walked to my locker, excited to see Clare. Just as I was rounding the corner, though, I saw Clare conversing with the leader of Jesus Club in the hall adjacent to our lockers. He was fawning over her, practically drooling as he started down at her with a small amount of concern in his eyes. I rolled my eyes at his lack of subtly. I wonder if he knew Clare and I were together…maybe I would have to inform him.

Before I could further the train of thought, Clare started toward the lockers not noticing me. I smoothly slid up next to her, matching her stride. "Gotta love Jesus Club," I said sarcastically. I certainly did not.

"Six months ago I would have said the same thing," Clare said, sounding tired. I was shocked to hear those words come out of her mouth. I thought Clare was unwaveringly faithful.

"And now?" I questioned her, not trying to hide the surprise I felt at her declaration.

"The world is a little less back and white," I saw the pain flash on her face as she stopped at her locker before she composed herself, her tone business-like. "My mom and dad are selling the house and separating." No wonder she had been an emotional wreak last night. They had made the divorce official, and, on top of that, were taking Clare out of her comfort zone- her house. I eyed her with concern; I would help her get through this. "Why do I have to suffer because they fell out of love?" she asked softly, the agony in her voice subdued, but still very evident.

My mind flashed to all the kids I had known growing up that had to suffer through divorce. It was always a sticky situation, but, I remembered gratefully, not all of the cases had ended so tragically for the child.

"Maybe you won't have to," I started, my eyes lighting up with hope. Clare glanced at me curiously. "There was this kid I knew growing up- his parents got divorced and moved to separate apartments, but…," I paused for dramatic effect, "he stayed in the house. His parents went back and forth." I let that sink in, smiling triumphantly as Clare warmed to the idea.

"So, he had one bedroom; one set of stuff?" She asked excitedly.

I shrugged my shoulders and nodded in affirmation. "Do you think your parents will go for it?"

A smile spread across her face, lighting it up. "They are feeling pretty guilty for putting me through this," she mused. "Thanks. I can always count on you."

"That's me…your rock," I said, only slightly sarcastic. Although it was a silly Bible reference, I still took comfort in the fact that it was true. Clare counted on me to make her feel better, and I was glad that I had yet to fail her.

She chuckled at my joke, staring into my eyes. I could feel her gratitude in her gaze, and I smiled at her. "Oh!" She exclaimed, her eyes lighting up, "I brought something you might like." She fished in her pocket and pulled out an old watch, handing it to me.

I took it from her, examining it. "Vintage," I noted, "Cool." Truth was, it wouldn't have mattered what Clare gave me- I would have adored it anyhow. I turned to open my locker so I could get out my books and head to class, but as soon as I opened the door a whole bunch of crap came flooding out. I glanced at Clare worriedly as all my papers, and other random mementos, hit the ground. When had I let my school locker get as bad as my room? I hoped that Clare wouldn't realize something was wrong.

Clare looked flabbergasted that I had fit all that stuff in there in the first place, her mouth slipping into a shocked 'o' before she regained her composure. "Maybe Jesus Club can take on your locker as a humanitarian disaster," Clare joked. I laughed nervously to cover up the fact that the situation wasn't funny…at all. It never would be. Just then the warning bell rang, saving me from furthering any conversation about all the junk in my locker. Clare warmly squeezed my shoulder before walking off. "Okay, bye," She sang out, disappearing into the mob of students.

I hurriedly shoved everything back in before running off to History. I slipped quietly into my seat, just a few minutes late. The teacher ignored the fact that I had arrived past the bell, and continued with the lesson. I realized I still had Clare's watch in my hand, and I slipped it on. I was cold and hard, but it fit perfectly. I smiled at it, taking notice of the fact that it didn't actually work. It didn't matter; I still liked it.

When I got to English Adam was talking to Clare, a skeptical look on his face. "Hey guys," I greeted them, plopping down into my seat.

"I missed you," Clare said warmly, a joking air about her.

"When were you going to tell me you gave me a busted watch?" I accused her, joking as well.

"Hey now, that watch holds sentimental value. It doesn't need to work. My, um, father taught me how to tell time on it before it broke," she admitted the last part softly, a blush rising in her cheeks. I grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"You two seem to be getting along well," Adam commented, confused.

"Oh, right," I said, preparing to bring him up to speed, "Clare and I talked everything out last night. It's all good." He nodded, raising his eyebrows expectantly, noting that there was obviously something weren't telling him. I, however, couldn't be the one to fill him in on Clare's parent's drama. She would have to do that.

"I'll talk to you later," she assured him, resigned.

"Sounds like a plan. I'm glad you two are good again," He told us sincerely.

"Me too," I said, smiling at Clare. She gifted me with a smile of her own, and then class started, so the three of us turned our attention to Ms. Dawes.

XXX

When I got home my parents were waiting for me in the kitchen. "Hey, Eli, could you come here?" My mom called to me.

I slipped into the kitchen, looking at their smiling faces. "Okay…creepy," I narrowed my eyes at them, "what gives."

My dad laughed his giant rumble. "We're going out for a late lunch-early dinner. Care to join us?"

It wasn't very often that we had any kind of meal together, so I figured it couldn't hurt. It wasn't like I had any homework to do anyway. "Yeah, sure, why not," I shrugged at them.

"Good," My mom declared proudly, "because we were going to make you come no matter what." She chuckled.

I raised my eyebrows at them. "So why even ask?"

"We like to give you the illusion that you have free-will," my dad answered. I thought he was kidding, but there was no way to be sure. My mom laughed, but I just shook my head at them.

"Where are we going?" I asked, only slightly curious.

"I was thinking we could go to Little Miss Steaks," My mom smiled at me. "And you could invite that girl you've been spending all your time with." She winked.

"No way in hell," was my immediate response.

Luckily neither of them took offence. They just shrugged it off. "Were going to have to meet her eventually," My dad smirked at me, his tone sounding ominous.

"We'll see," I challenged, returning the smirk. With that, we loaded into my dad's van, and headed to dinner. We had just ordered when my phone started to vibrate. "Excuse me," I said to my parents, before heading into the bathroom. "What's up, Clare?" I asked, answering my phone.

"Where are you?" She asked me, and I could hear the wind whistling into the speaker of her phone. She was obviously outside.

"Little Miss Steaks," I answered without hesitation, "I'm having dinner with my folks. Why?"

"I'll be there in a little bit," Clare sounded determined, "I needed to get out of the house." And with that, the call disconnected before I could tell her not to come. I brought my palm up to meet my forehead. I was not looking forward to her meeting my parents. They were all kinds of inappropriate, and while that had been fine with Julia, it would probably make Clare uncomfortable. I didn't want Clare to be put through that on top of everything else she was dealing with, but there was really no way I could stop her from coming either.

I walked back to the table, hearing the sounds of my parents laughing from across the restaurant. I slipped into my seat, noticing that the food had arrived in my absence.

"Where'd you go?" My mom asked curiously.

"To the bathroom," I sighed, "Clare's on her way over. Could you guys try to be polite? You might be a bit of a culture shock to her," I bite the words off with heavy sarcasm.

My mom was too excited to notice my bitterness, though. "Oh! We finally get to meet her. This is so great!"

"Yeah, great," I mumbled. "So," I said more loudly, looking for a distraction, "what were you talking about while I was gone?"

"We were reminiscing about old concerts," my dad declared happily. He turned back to my mom, "Remember Eli's first concert?" He asked her. She shook her head, chuckling. He turned back to me. "You cried so hard we nearly had to leave, you little brat!"

"Yeah," I commented sarcastically, "because most six month olds love Metallica concerts."

"But when the music started, your tantrums started to look like head banging," he exclaimed.

"All the metal-heads around you started imitating you," my mom added proudly, her and my dad both nodding their heads. I rolled my eyes. "It was your first mosh-pit, baby."

I smiled. It wasn't like I remembered the concert specifically, but I was happy t have the kind of ridiculous parents that brought babies to concerts. I had a pretty interesting upbringing. I just wasn't sure how Clare would feel about the whole thing…

As if on cue, Clare rounded the corner, and stopped right behind my chair. "Hey," she greeted me quietly. She looked distressed, and she hadn't bothered to change out of her school uniform. She stared at me for a second before noticing my parents. "I'm Clare, but the way," she waved at them.

"This is Clare!" My dad stood up from his seat, extending his hand to Clare. She shook it, looking down at me. I tried to keep the distaste off my face, but I was really worried that my parents were about to make a fool out of themselves. "Welcome! I'm the bullfrog," he continued, making a noise that was supposed to be an imitation of a bullfrog. I rolled my eyes at him, and he winked at me. I groaned to myself in frustration. "This is CeCe," my dad introduced my mother.

"Oh, we've heard all about you! Please," She grabbed both of Clare's hands, pulling her down into the fourth seat. Clare's smile was full of elation- like there was nowhere on Earth she would rather be right now. She also looked a little overwhelmed, but that was to be expected. I relaxed just slightly.

"I hope you don't mind me interrupting your family dinner," Clare sounded legitimately worried that she was ruining a family affair of some sort. I smirked- that was just so…Clare.

"No!" CeCe and Bullfrog assured her in unison.

"We were just telling the story of how Eli wreaked Lollapalooza," My mom told Clare, smiling at me. I smirked back at her, my nose crinkling in the process. "So," my mom continued, "what brings you to the Steak house?"

I shot a warning glance in her direction. There was no need for her to interrogate Clare. Clare answered the question anyway. "Well, I, just, I, um, couldn't handle being around my parents," Clare stuttered. I looked at her, concern filling my eyes. I wondered what had happed. Clare glanced back at me from under her eyelashes, embarrassed.

"Hey, none of our business," Bullfrog declared, and I totally agreed. Unfortunately, he continued, "If you need a place to crash, our house is your house anytime." Sure it sounded like a generous offer, but it was actually kind of obscene. I knew what my father was hinting at, but Clare was too innocent to catch on.

"Wow, thank you," Clare smiled at him, pleased, "it's nice to know there's a guest room with my name on it."

"No guest room," my dad informed her bluntly.

Clare's eyebrows shot up quickly. "Excuse me?"

"Dad," I warned him.

"We've been trying to get a girl into Eli's room for a while now," my dad informed her. He knew damn well why no one was going into my room, girl or otherwise, until I got over my problem. Clare shifted uncomfortably next to me. An overwhelming sense of déjà vu washed over me. So far dinners with parents was the weakest link in Clare's and my relationship.

"Dad," I warned him again, adding more menace to my voice this time.

"He even has a double bed in there," my mom added, not helping the situation. Clare looked at me questioningly.

"Mom," I practically yelled, finally getting their attention, "Could you give me and Clare a moment alone?" I suggested, not so discreetly.

My mom and dad, thankfully, started to gather their meals. "Young love," my mom whispered to Dad before they got up, leaving Clare and me alone. Finally. The short silence that settled around us was refreshing.

I spoke up after I was sure my parents were out of earshot. "Sorry about CeCe and Bullfrog," I apologized worriedly. Clare didn't seem upset, though, just shocked.

"Well," she started. I could tell she was choosing her words carefully, "They sure are interesting. Were your parents serious about me staying in your room?" she asked incredulous.

"Well, um, they just assume that since we've been dating…," I grew uncomfortable under Clare's disbelieving stare, knowing she wouldn't approve of what I was about to say. Bust she cut me off before I could finish.

"That we have sex?" her voice shot through an octave as she grew even more astounded. "Why would they think that?"

Clare's direct question put me in an ugly situation. I knew that once she met my parents I would have to explain a few things, but I had never dreamed that they would bring up the sex card the first time they met Clare. And now I was going to have to tell Clare that I was not a virgin. I cringed.

"It's just that, um, well," I stumbled over my words, "Julia…," Clare cut me off again.

"You're old girlfriend," she finished my sentence rigidly. I could tell she didn't like it when I brought Julia up.

"Yeah," I nodded, growing more anxious and uncomfortable by the second. "She, um, she, uh, she had a lot of problems with her stepmom," I finally spit the words out, "so, she stayed with us." I delivered the news, my eyes locked directly with Clare's. At first, she was hesitant to accept it.

"Like…with you, with you," Clare stated for clarity, her face falling.

"I didn't even know you existed yet," I defended myself, trying to make it evident that I preferred Clare over Julia. But I saw the pain and disappointment flash in her eyes before she settled on a determined look.

"You know I'm not having sex until I get married?" She checked.

"I got the memo," I told her sarcastically. It's not like Clare tried to hide the fact that she was religious.

She seemed surprised by my cynical reaction. "Does it bother you?" she asked. It seemed like the idea had never occurred to her before.

I wasn't going to lie to Clare, so I told her, "Yeah, it's not my favorite thing, but it's what's gotta be." Of course I would love to be close to Clare in that way, but only if and when she was ready. Clare had to know that I was a guy, and it wasn't like the thought had never crossed my mind. She was a beautiful girl, and I was in love with her. Was it so wrong to think about how sexy she was?

"We're really different, aren't we…," Clare realized, and the thought seemed to worry her.

"Opposites attracted," I countered fiercely.

"And get married, and have kids, and get divorced," Clare said, gathering steam and working herself up.

"Clare, we're not your parents," I reminded her, but her eyes were already hunted by the thoughts running around her head. I did not like the look in her eyes one bit.

She met my stare for a brief moment before grabbing for her bag. "Call you later," you murmured to me before running out the door.

Well, that had not gone over well. I hoped Clare would keep her promise and call me; we had a lot we had to talk about. It seemed like all this bad stuff just kept coming at Clare and me; like our relationship was doomed.

I shook the thoughts out of my head, banishing them from ever coming to the forefront of my mind again.

Clare and I were perfect for each other and we would work things out just like we always did.

**Whoa! This is my longest chapter yet! I hope you enjoyed reading it. Did it seem too sappy for you guys in any parts? Let me know. **

**I'm really counting on your guy's feedback for this particular story. I'm slightly worried/ intimidated about writing these segments. I've been living in Eli's head for so long that sometimes I get lost there (I know, I'm weird), so I think I CAN write them well, I just want them to be just right. So, any thoughts/encouragement/criticisms are greatly appreciated. Insecurity rears its ugly head at the most inopportune moments, eh?**

**I'll update soon, promise. I love you guys! =) **


	2. Jesus Club

**Ah! It is time for the second half of Umbrella- Part 1. I can barely contain myself; I can't wait to get started.**

**So, how about I do just that…**

Suddenly, the food in front of me didn't seem appetizing in the least. I needed to get out of the Steakhouse and allow my head to clear. I threw my glass of water back, the cool liquid sliding down my throat, and shoved back from the table.

As I passed my parents they looked up in concern. "Hey," my mom tried to get my attention, "What's wrong? Where are you going?"

"For a walk," I answered curtly over my shoulder, not slowing down. "I'll see you back at home. Don't wait up." I pushed out the doors of the restaurant and mixed myself into the waves of people walking down the sidewalk. The simple task of giving into the crowd's syncopated movement was comforting; I didn't have to think about walking, the people around me just kept thrusting me forward.

When I reached the park I broke free of the mob and ran for my sanctuary. Once I was on the bike path I took deep, measured breaths of the cool air around me. Once I had centered myself, I let my mind go over the conversation Clare and I had just had. It was unsettling that Clare had compared us to her parents. Did she not think we could make our relationship work, or was she just so worried about this divorce that she wasn't thinking of anything else?

The latter seemed the most possible, so I breathed a sigh of relief. Clare had to know that we were right for each other…but perhaps I could do something to convince her that we were very different from her parents. I would have to keep an eye out for ways to do that.

Something else about our miniature argument had disturbed me, though. Bringing up my nights with Julia had made me realize how much I missed her. It wasn't the same gut-wrenching, breathtaking longing that I had felt until I met Clare, but it was painful enough to make me realize that I had been repressing my feelings instead of completely resolving them as I thought I had been.

With a dark chuckle I grasped the fact that I would never resolve these feelings until I cleaned up my room. That room was the only thing standing between me and complete happiness. And the sad thing was, cleaning out the room would have been easier with some support and assistance, but I could never tell anyone aside from my parents. It would surely drive Clare and Adam away, revealing the fact that I was actually a lunatic and their lives would be better without me.

I collapsed on a nearby bench, dropping my head in my hands. I wanted to cleanse my life of all the junk so badly, but I couldn't. I had tried several times, but whenever I tried to throw away the most trivial piece of trash I started to panic. I just knew that the moment I threw something out another person in my life that I cared about was going to die.

The sensible side of my brain knew that there really was no connection; that no one would get hurt, but the irrational part of me that was permanently scarred by Julia's death wouldn't let the sensible part have any say.

Just then, my phone started to vibrate in my pocket. I grabbed it to see who it was, reading the name on the tiny front screen- Clare.

I quickly answered. "Hi, beautiful," I tried to make my voice sound casual, but it came out strangled and panicked.

"What's wrong, Eli," Clare asked, instantly concerned.

The words were right on the tip of my tongue. '_I'm a hoarder, and I'm not entirely over Julia. Clare, get out while you still can_,' I mentally screamed at her. The words never came out of my mouth though. "Nothing," I lied smoothly, settling my voice.

I could feel Clare's skepticism in the silence that settled over us. "Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right?" She finally spoke up.

I sighed. No Clare, I really can't tell you. "I'm just stressing about our earlier conversation," I told her, composing a careful half-truth.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," Clare started, "I'm just…questioning a lot of what I believed to be true since my parents declared their divorce."

"Which is understandable," I assured her, "but, Clare, you can't use your parent's relationship to predict the outcome of our own. I meant what I said earlier, we're not your parents, and if this relationship is supposed to work, which I think it is, then it will."

"I guess you're right," Clare said hesitantly. "I'm just scared, Eli."

"I know," I whispered. "And I can't promise you that everything is going to work out, but I can tell you I'll be by your side every step of the way."

"Thank you," Clare whispered back appreciatively. "Hold on a second," Clare said suddenly, and I heard some mumbled words being exchanged. "I have to go," Clare said, speaking to me again, "we're having a family dinner." She sounded tired and defeated.

"Bye. I'll see you tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Of course," Clare sighed. "Bye." The line disconnected and I snapped the phone shut, looking at the time. It was 7:30. The sun was going down, leaving the park bathed in pinkish-gray light. I didn't really want to go home, but I couldn't stay here forever, so I pushed off the bench and slowly trudged home. I felt like the weight of the world was always on my shoulders, and eventually I would just crumble, ceasing to exist. Whoever coined the phrase 'life isn't fair' probably didn't know the half of it, but they were scarily accurate.

Much later I finally reached the front of my house, and I climbed the stairs slowly. Inside, my mom was probably listening to my dad on the radio, smiling in pride like she did every night. I would walk right to room, shut the door and be swallowed up by my past, just like I did every night. Life isn't fair, indeed.

I slipped into my room, but averted my eyes, avoiding the mess, and fell into my bed. I had been thinking about Julia so much in the past few hours that I was positive I would not be getting much sleep. So, I rolled onto my side, slipped my headphones on, and prepared myself for the restless night.

XXX

The next morning I walked up the stairs of Degrassi, my sleepless night weighing down on me. I ran right into Adam on the way to my locker. "Whoa, dude, you alright?" Adam asked me, especially chipper considering it was seven in the morning.

"I've been better, but I'll be fine," I said, swatting away his concern. "Why are you so happy?" It was his turn for some interrogation.

"I met someone," he smiled hugely at me, but didn't give away any more information.

"Awesome…are you going to expand on that?" I demanded, rather than asked.

"Fiona Coyne," he shrugged as if this was no big deal.

"Good for you, buddy," I patted him on the back, genuinely happy for him; "I wish you the best of luck in your courting."

"Thank you," Adam laughed. We rounded the corner, and I saw Clare waiting for me by our lockers. She looked defeated.

"Excuse me," I said to Adam, and he just nodded, turning to walk in the other direction sensing that Clare and I needed a moment alone. "You look almost as bad as I feel," I commented, striding up to my locker.

"Wow, thanks, good to see you too," Clare narrowed her eyes at me.

"Sorry. What I meant to say was 'Clare, you look magnificent this morning!'" I winked at her, and she shook her head at me chuckling. "Seriously, though," I continued, "you look a little down. What's wrong?"

"I could say the same exact thing about you," Clare retorted. I raised my eyebrows at her expectantly; she wasn't answering my question. She sighed. "Okay, fine, I forgot to tell you last night- I told my mom and dad your solution to my problem, but they didn't even consider it. So, I guess I am moving." Her shoulders slumped, and she exhaled heavily. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her. With surprising force, she threw her arms around my waist and squeezed.

"Ooof," the noise escaped as Clare pulled me close. I leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "That's not the only reason you look so upset, is it- how was your family dinner last night?" I asked, speaking into her hair. I let Clare's sent wash around me, allowing it to relax me.

"I'd rather not talk about it," Clare commented evasively.

"Sure," I said, not wanting to push. Too bad the warning bell rang, interrupting our moment. "I'll see you in English." I grabbed her hand and squeezed before I dropped it, and headed for History.

I took History as an opportunity to catch up on the sleep I had neglected last night. I envied Clare; she had a problem but she could easily share it with Adam and me. Sharing burdens with friends always makes them easier to carry. I couldn't do that though- I was trapped in my own mind with no real release of all the stress I carried with me. Sometimes, I really hated myself; I was my own worst enemy.

I was jarred out of my half-sleep when the bell rang. I walked to English at a snail's pace, making sure all my emotions were in check before I entered the classroom. I had to be strong and appear content for Clare. She didn't need to handle any more depression and unhappiness in her life than she was already dealing with. Her needs came before mine.

"Hi, guys," I smiled my greeting to Adam and Clare.

"Hey!" Adam replied; Clare just smiled weakly at me. "I was just telling Clare here about you know who. She's excited for me too." Adam's middle school behavior about Fiona was endearing. I really hoped it worked out for him.

"Great, man," I told him sincerely. Then I turned to Clare, "And how are you holding up?"

"I'm…tired," she settled on her answer after a moment's hesitation. "Also, I don't think I'll be joining you at lunch," she added. I shot her a questioning look, wondering where she was going to be. "Jesus Club is meeting today, and I think I could use a little rejuvenation. I think I may be able to find it there." Clare looked skeptical, and totally unconvincing, like she thought this was expected of her, but she didn't necessarily think it was going to work.

"Oh, I won't be at lunch either," Adam turned, speaking to me. "I have food drive duty, so I guess you're on your own, man."

I hesitated, thinking through a few things before speaking up. "No I won't," I declared.

"Who are you going to sit with?" Adam knew I didn't have any other close friends, so he was rightfully confused. Clare simply raised her eyebrows at me.

I looked her in the eye, and delivered my next sentence slowly, "I'll be at Jesus Club…with Clare."

Clare was taken aback, figuratively and literally. She leaned away from me like I was going to explode. "Why?" she gasped.

It was a valid question. I didn't hide the fact that I was an atheist, after all, but she didn't need to be so shocked. Clare needed me right now, and I would go anywhere, even to Jesus Club, if she wanted me to. Besides, this was my chance to prove to Clare that our relationship was nothing like her parents; there wasn't anything I wouldn't do for her.

"Do you not want me there?" I asked, feigning hurt.

"No, no," Clare assured me without hesitation. "It'll actually be nice having you there…I just don't understand why you would go. You're an atheist."

"I am?" I asked sarcastically. "I had no clue!" I smirked at her, and she playfully swatted my arm. "Clare," I started, growing serious, "you need me there for moral support, so I'll be there. Also, I really don't want to spend lunch alone," I added. She blushed with pleasure.

"Thank you, Eli," the gratitude in her voice was thick, "That means a lot to me." Before I could respond, Ms. Dawes commanded our attention to the front of the room. Adam threw a ball of paper at me a few minutes later, and I unwrapped it to reveal one word written in his handwriting. 'Whipped,' the letter stated.

I turned to roll my eyes at him, and he laughed at me. He did have a point though. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

XXX

I stood outside the room where Jesus Club was having their meeting, listening before plunging in. I really didn't want to be there, so I had compromised with myself by being fashionably late. I heard them start with a stupid Bible verse, and then the leader of the group asked who wanted to be the first one to talk. Apparently Clare volunteered because I heard the leader as, "Clare, what's on your mind?" all too eagerly.

"My parents," Clare responded hesitantly. "I used to count on them for everything- they taught me right from wrong. They told me divorce was bad; sex before marriage was a sin," I took that as my cue to walk in. Clare was obviously having trouble getting through this; I could hear the emotion thick in her voice. I slowly entered the room, keeping my eyes glued to her as I walked to an empty chair slightly separated from the rest of the circle. She looked over as I crossed the room, meeting my eyes. She sighed in relief, and continued. "But now they're getting divorced. They say their too different." She looked back at me as she said the last part and I narrowed my eyes. Obviously Clare hadn't been pacified with my constant reassurances that we weren't like her parents. It was still bothering her. That's probably why she didn't want to tell me about their family dinner last night- I bet she had asked them about that. "And I asked," she continued, confirming my suspicion, "were they always different, or did something change? And they said that they were- always different, but hoped that they would grow together."

'_See_,' I wanted to yell at Clare, '_That was your parent's first mistake. They shouldn't have hoped they would grow together, they should have just known things were right. That's not like us at all!_'

"Jesus is always there for you," was the leader's pitiful, unhelpful response. I rolled my eyes. Religious people were so annoying. Not to mention ignorant. I often lost sight of the fact that Clare was religious because she was more sensible than most people in general, not just the religious types.

"If Jesus loves me so much why does he want me to go through this?" Clare challenged. I was shocked at the anger in her voice, but not necessarily the content of her words. I had detected that Clare wasn't buying into Jesus as a fix for everything lately. Especially when she had told me over the phone that she was questioning what she believed to be true.

"It's all part of his plan," was the brilliant response the leader came up with.

I couldn't hold my opinions in anymore, he just sounded so stupid and I had to speak up. "His plan sucks," I said, narrowing my eyes. The malice in my voice was not subdued.

"Excuse me," the leader got defensive right away, "who are you?"

"Just a guy trying to have a rational discussion," I emphasized rational, implying that all his words had been the opposite.

"He's just trying to help me figure things out," Clare assured the group, her voice thick. I could tell she was close to losing it. She paused a second, avoided looking everyone in the eye. "Have a nice lunch," she said quickly, grabbing her stuff and rushing out of the room.

I glared at the idiot a second longer before jumping out of my seat and rushing after Clare. She was swiftly walking down the hall, and I could see her shoulders shaking- she was crying. "Clare," I called after her, but she quickened her pace, "Wait." I broke into a full on run, placing myself in front of her after a few strides leaving her no choice but to stop.

"I bet you loved that," Clare said sarcastically, tear running down her face. She sniffled. "St. Clare has a crisis of faith," she mocked. Of course I hadn't enjoyed the fact that she was upset, and she couldn't find anything solid to hold onto. I didn't want to watch her fall to pieces. "I'm losing…everything I love," she confided, a sob breaking out of her chest.

She needed to know that wasn't true. "Not me," I asserted firmly. "I'm not going anywhere," I reminded her again. I looked her right in the eyes, and I saw her melt a little at my words. She flung her arms around my neck, sobbing into my shoulder. I rubbed her back as she continued to cry.

After a few minutes she regained her composure a little. "I bet you think I'm a wreak, huh?" she mumbled into the crook of my neck. "I burst into tears every few minutes."

"Clare," I said softly, "you're parents are getting divorced. You have a right to be a little emotional." I reached up to stroke her hair.

"You're too good to me," Clare said softly, and my heart clenched at her words. She had it backwards. If she knew the thing I was hiding from her she would realize that she was too good to me.

"How can you even say that?" I asked her, incredulous.

"I keep pushing you away, saying awful things about our future, but you keep taking it all in stride. You're always here when I need you most with a hug and comforting words. If I'm not careful you'll get fed up and leave me," she explained.

I pulled back so I could look her in the eyes again. "That will never happen," I told her fiercely. "You're the one for me, Clare. I need you to know that this is going to work out. We'll stay together." She nodded weakly, and threw her arms back around my shoulders.

"You're the best, Eli."

I closed my eyes and silently wished that her words could be true, but I knew in my heart that they weren't.

XXX

As soon as I got home from school I changed out of the disgusting uniform, and then I headed to the kitchen. Because I had attended the Jesus Club meeting I didn't have any lunch, and I was starving.

I finished making a sandwich, and was about to take a bite, when I heard a knock on my door. Annoyed, I stalked over to it and cracked the door open. I was not expecting who it was, but, honestly, nobody else really showed up at my house unannounced. "Clare?" I questioned, opening the door wider. Her bright blue eyes were wide with excitement and determination. I narrowed my eyes at her strange expression. "Hey, what are you doing here?" I asked gently.

She took a deep breath, preparing herself. "I want to spend the night with you," she informed me.

My eyebrows shot up into my bangs and my mouth dropped open in surprise. Before any rational thought could pass through my mind I was excited. I almost pulled Clare inside to crush my lips over hers.

I shook my head, dislodging the appealing mental picture because a second later I remembered two very important things.

First, an image of my cluttered room bombarded my thoughts. Even if I wanted to, and I thought Clare really wanted to, I couldn't let her in- not to my house, not to my room. I couldn't even let her all the way into my heart because I was hiding an essential fact about my life from her.

The second, equally important thought that hit me mentally was Clare's faith. Sure, she was going through a tough time and it was making her question what she believed in, but I knew she would regret this kind of thing in the morning. She didn't really want to have sex; it was against everything she went for. I couldn't, and I wouldn't, condone this. Not only would Clare feel bad about it, but so would it. It would be like I was taking advantage of her.

"Well?" Clare asked, shaking me out of my racing thoughts, "say something. Invite me in, maybe."

"I can't," I whispered, stepping out onto my front step, closing the door behind me. I didn't know how well Clare was going to take this rejection, but I had no choice. I couldn't even tell her one of the two major reasons I had to deny her.

Her eyebrows came together in confusion. "What?"

I knew she heard me, and I didn't want to repeat it. I spotted her bike on the side of my house, so I jumped off the steps and grabbed it. "I'll throw your bike in the hearse," I told her as I carried it over to Morty.

"Why?" Clare asked, unbelieving. I could tell she was going to make this hard for me.

"I'll drive you home," I said, ignoring her questions. It wasn't like I could answer them anyway.

Clare rushed over and planted herself in front of me, forcing me to meet her eye. "I don't want to go home," she annunciated each word. Then, more softly, she added, "I want to be with you."

The words made my heart jump. I wanted to be with her too, but it wasn't a possibility. Not tonight…maybe not ever I realized darkly. If I never got my problem under control I would never be able to allow that. "You don't have to do this," I plead with her. If she kept this up I was going to have to be cruel. I didn't want that, but it was the only way to stop Clare's advances. I had learned after our first kiss just had persistent she could be.

"I want to," she assured me, sounding sincere. It almost broke my heart how sure she was. I was going to crush her. She was confused when I didn't answer. "Don't you?" she sounded a little hurt.

That was not the problem. Of course I wanted to. Clare didn't realize how adorably sexy she could be, and sometimes it drove me insane, but I couldn't tell her that- it would only encourage her. So, I decided to give her the one reason for rejecting her that I could tell. "You have beliefs. This isn't who you are," I reminded her.

"I don't know who I am!" She yelled back at me, frustrated. The tears started to brim in her eyes. I looked away. She was making this so very hard. "I don't know anything, but I know that I want to be with you," she grabbed my hands as she contradicted herself.

This was it; I couldn't give her my other reason so we were at a crossroads. I was going to have to hurt her, and the thought stabbed at my heart. I looked down at our hand, my face twisting in pain. I quickly composed it and jerked my hands away from hers'.

"What is this?" She asked, the hurt clearly written on her face- saturating her voice.

"Nothing," I said quickly, trying to keep my own pain out of my voice. "I'll drive you home," I turned away so she couldn't see into my eyes, but I grabbed her arm, about to pull her to the passenger seat.

"No, no," Clare said, anger and anguish making her voice thick, "you know what, I get it, Eli. Don't bother." She grabbed her bike but didn't get on it as she quickly walked away from my house.

I didn't watch her go. I couldn't- the sight would have been too painful.

I hated doing this to Clare, but what choice did I have. My self-loathing only deepened as I walked into my house and slammed the door behind me. I couldn't believe I had found a way to kick Clare while she was already down, even though I had tried so hard to avoid hurting her.

I walked into my room and kicked the nearest box. I deserved to live in this hell forever.

**Coming soon: Umbrella- Part 2! Let me know what you thought of this segment. Also, if it's crap, I apologize. I'm feeling under the weather, and I hope it didn't affect the writing, but if it did, I'm terribly sorry! =O **


	3. Eli's Locker

**All I have to say is that you guys are all amazing. So, here comes the first half of Umbrella- Part 2!**

**I promise that I will try to avoid having so many typos. That's my goal. **

**Without further ado:**

It didn't take me long to decide that I wasn't going to let this situation loom over Clare and me without doing anything. I reached into my pocket to pull out my cell phone and dialed Clare's number from memory. It rang a few times, and then I heard Clare's familiar greeting. I sighed; it wasn't like I was expecting her to answer, but I had hoped. Damn caller ID.

"Clare," I started after the beep, "please call me when you get home so I know you're safe. Or, you know, call as soon as you get this. I'm sorry. I can explain. Just give me the chance." I could clearly hear the desperation in my voice, so I could only imagine what Clare would think when she heard it.

I passed the next half hour with a pitiful attempt at my homework. I continually checked my alarm clock, getting more restless as each moment passed. There was no way Clare hadn't gotten my message.

I grabbed my phone, and this time dialed her home phone. I was just about to hang up when her mother answered.

"Hello?" Mrs. Edwards' voice sounded exhausted.

"Um, hi, Mrs. Edwards; how are you?" I asked politely.

"Who is this?" she answered, confused.

"Oh, sorry ma'am. This is Eli." I cringed awaiting her response. We hadn't talked since that disaster of a dinner after all, and I wasn't sure how she felt about me.

"Hello, Eli. I'm fine, thank you for asking," her voice grew overly formal. I took that as a bad sign.

"I was wondering if Clare was home?" I questioned tentatively.

"She is," Mrs. Edwards responded, but didn't continue. Well, this was sufficiently awkward.

"Well, that's great!" I infused my voice with fake enthusiasm. Why hadn't Clare called me? "May I please speak with her?"

"Frankly, I don't think she wants to talk to you right now, Eli. I have specific instructions to not bother her if you call." I flinched. That was harsh. I wondered what else Clare had told her mom, and I blushed a deep shade of red.

"Okay," I said softly, the awkwardness of the conversation intensifying. "Thanks." I successfully kept the sarcasm out of my voice, not wanting to make my quest for her mother's approval any harder than it already was.

"Mhmm," her mom mumbled, hanging up. I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it, dumbfounded. That had not gone well. I quickly pulled up a blank text, adding Clare's number to the recipient's space. I typed: 'Clare, please call me back. We really need to talk.'

It wasn't surprising that I never received anything back from Clare, but it still made me anxious. Every couple hours I would call or text her again, but she continued to ignore me. It made me sick to think that Clare was so angry with me. Of course, it wasn't without reason, but I still desperately needed to talk to her. I was close to losing it.

I tortured myself by replaying our conversation from earlier over and over again in my head, looking for some way I could have done anything differently. The only way I could have avoided pissing Clare off would have been to tell her about what I was hiding in my room. Not that this scenario would have yielded a different outcome. Eventually, Clare would have realized I'm not worth her time or energy, and she would leave me. Much like it felt like she was doing now.

When it became an acceptable time to go to sleep, I showered and slipped into my bed, turning off the light. My room was much less haunting in the dark because I could only make out basic shapes, so I didn't have to absorb every excruciating detail of the mess that was my life.

I squeezed my eyes shut and allowed my mind to wander over the hypothetical of what would have happened had I let Clare in earlier and I wasn't a hoarder. We could have spent the afternoon together completing homework. Maybe we would have watched a movie. And when the time came I would have grabbed Clare's hand and led her to my spotless room. She would be nervous, and I would assure her that we didn't have to do anything until she was ready. In response she would lean up and kiss me softly, her arms wrapping around my neck. I would kiss her back passionately and I would slowly lead her over to my bed without breaking the kiss…

I looked down at my hypothetical Clare realizing Clare's short, light cinnamon curls had morphed into long ebony hair. Her eyes changed from bright, piercing blue to a dark chocolate brown. Clare's soft features slowly started to resemble much sharper features. Her open smile became a hard line that was weighed down by a world that had never treated the girl before me fairly.

"I love you so much, Eli," Julia whispered to me, and I jolted upright in bed covered in sweat and panting heavily. I looked around me trying to get my bearings. It had been a long time since I had a dream about Julia, and this regression was starting to scare the hell out of me. I sneaked a peak at my alarm clock noting that it was three in the morning. I exhaled heavily, trying to regain my composure.

I collapsed back into my pillow, exhausted. This time, when I closed my eyes, I tried to keep myself from thinking at all.

XXX

The next morning the dark circles under my eyes were painfully evident. I was still a little shaken by my unexpected dream the night before, which was unfortunate because I was going to need all my strength, wit, and charm if I was going to mend things with Clare today.

I methodically slipped on my uniform, choked down breakfast, and slowly drove to school. I walked straight from my locker, not paying attention to anyone or anything around me. I swiftly removed my history binder and notebook from my locker, and then placed myself in front of Clare's, waiting.

I didn't have to wait too long, after a minute or so Clare appeared in the hall and sluggishly made her way to the locker. She looked up, narrowing her eyes when she saw me patiently awaiting her arrival. As soon as I was within in ear-shot, she began to talk, "I spent the night dividing my things between Mom's place and Dad's place. I don't really need a locker stocker right now." The annoyance in her voice was clear.

She gently pushed me out of the way so she could gain access to her locker as I replied to her. "You wouldn't answer my calls, texts," I accused her, "I thought about smoke signals but I..."

"What do you expect?" Clare shot at me angrily, cutting me off. I flinched at her hurt tone. "After rejecting me like that?" She didn't stop the guilt trip there, "Or was your ex-girlfriend turned on by rejection?"

I smirked, trying to hide the pain her last comment had caused me. What would Clare think if she heard about my dream last night? She deserved so much more than I could give her, it was true, but she was being a little unfair by bringing Julia into this. "Look, I know you're going through stuff because of your parent's divorce, but your faith…," I reminded her. I know I was keeping my other reason from Clare, but she couldn't really argue with the validity of sex being against her religion.

"You think my faith is bogus, and we both know it," Clare yelled back, frustrated. I was not handling this as well as I hoped I would. It would be so much easier if I could just come out and tell Clare about my problem. But I couldn't stand to lose her because of it. Hell, I couldn't stand to lose her because I couldn't tell her the truth either. '_It looks like either way I am going to lose her_,' I thought to myself grimly. "What's really going on here?" Clare came out and asked me, giving me the perfect opportunity to tell her the truth. I wished so hard that I had the strength to do so.

Instead of answering her question I gave her a true justification. "I care about you, that's all," I locked eyes with her. How could she doubt the sincerity of my words?

"And it has nothing to do with Julia?" Clare asked me, her eyes showing her vulnerability even though her voice was still rough.

I couldn't tell Clare that it had everything to do with Julia…just not in the way she was thinking. "Julia's dead Clare," I yelled at her, getting angry myself. I didn't want to talk about Julia with anyone least of all Clare. The words burned my throat on their way out.

"So, maybe I'd be ruining your memories by taking her place in your bed," she accused sarcastically, but I could see the real worry written all over her face. The fact was Clare would be helping me move on if she spent the night- replacing painful old memories with happy new ones. If only…

"Where do you even come up with this stuff?" I asked her, worried that I had somehow given her the idea. I was also annoyed that Clare wasn't dropping the subject. I needed to stop talking about Julia.

"Then tell me why, for real," Clare demanded. I wanted to believe that I would do anything for Clare, but I couldn't even obey her simple request. I felt my chest constrict in panic as Clare continued to stare me down. I put up my best poker face, not answering her question. After a moment she altered her request, "unless everything's fine and I can come over tonight." There was a clear challenge in her voice, but there was also a hint of excitement. It was barely detectable, but it killed me just the same because I couldn't allow that to happen.

I started to shake my head. "No," I whispered softly, "I can't. You can't." I could barely spit out the short sentences. I was hurting Clare for the second time in just a few hours for the same damn reason. Why was it that I always hurt the people I cared about most? Clare didn't deserve this and I didn't deserve her.

"Then I want my dad's watch back," Clare commanded icily. Her eyes hardened as my heart broke. This was it then?

Too bad, even though I knew Clare was too good for me, I refused to go down without a fight. Stubborn to the bitter end, I was. "I brought it home," I told her.

"It's my father's watch," Clare retorted, disbelieving. Instead of answering, I turned and started down the hall. I knew I was being a jerk, but Clare and I had some things to work out. Giving back the watch felt like giving in and there was no way I was going to do that. "What's wrong with you?" Clare yelled after me, "Let it go!"

'_No, Clare, I care about you too much to let it go_,' I shot back in my head as I headed to History.

I huffed as I plopped down into my chair, earning me sideways glances from the kids sitting around me. I glared at all of them, daring them with my eyes to say something, or even to continue to stare at me. They all quickly redirected their attention, and I smirked grimly at myself. That was one of the reasons I was so drawn to Clare- she had never judged me the way most kids did at this school, assuming I was a scary freak just because of my appearance and my steely exterior. Clare had taken the time to get past the surface and find the soft-hearted romantic within. '_So why_,' I asked myself angrily, '_was I so sure that Clare would immediately run in the other direction if I told her the truth about my room_?' I was jumping to conclusions, and Clare had surprised me time and time again. Would it really be so bad if I let her in on my secret, or was I just dwelling on the worst case scenario?

No, the mere possibility of Clare not being able to handle my problems was crushing. I mean, I realized now that I couldn't hide them forever, but that didn't mean I couldn't put off telling Clare till the last possible moment.

I spent the rest of History think about how easy my life would be if I could just get over myself and tell Clare the truth. I literally felt torn in two.

I quickly made my way to English, bumping into Adam outside the door. "Hey, man," he greeted me, "I guess you screwed up this time, not Clare, huh?"

"Excuse me?" My eyebrows came together in confusion.

"I ran into Clare earlier and she was not happy. Why don't you just give her the watch back?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Et tu, Brute? And I'm not giving Clare her watch back because we're not done working this thing out. She'll come around; we always work out our problems."

"I hope so," Adam gave me a pat on the back before walking into the room and slipping into his seat. I followed suit shortly after. Clare was already seated, making a point to not acknowledge me at all.

I sat down and pivoted in my seat to face her. "Clare, we need to talk some more. We can't leave things the way they are right now."

"I have nothing more to say to you," she spat at me.

"That's not fair. I can explain myself if you give me some time," I told her desperately, not really sure if I meant it.

"You had ample opportunity to do so. I don't want to hear it anymore. Now turn around and leave me alone; class is about to start." I shot Adam a pleading look, begging for some help, but he just shrugged, not wanting to get in the middle of this. That was probably smart of him; I respected that.

As soon as the bell rang, declaring the class over, Clare was out of her seat and through the door. "I royally screwed up," I said to no one in particular.

"Yeah, but you'll figure out a way to fix it," Adam spoke up encouragingly, "After all, you always do."

"Thanks, man, but this time I might not be able to."

"That is a quitter attitude, and I will not have it," Adam smiled warmly at me.

We started walking in the direction of Adam's locker. "So how are things with Fiona?" I asked him, changing the subject.

Adam winced. "I helped my brother get a shot with her. I think I must be a masochist or something."

I nodded in sympathy- if anyone understood masochism it was me. "I know your brother," I told him comfortingly, "he'll strike out before you know it, and then you'll have your chance at a happily ever after."

Adam laughed jubilantly. "Do you have the ability to see the future?" he asked jokingly.

"If I did would I still be fighting with Clare, or would I have foreseen the solution by now?" I half-joked back.

"Touché," Adam complied. "I'll see you later!" With that, Adam disappeared into a classroom.

I decided, for mental health purposes, to skip my next two classes before lunch. It would give me some time to prepare for lunch with Clare. That is, if she would even eat lunch with me.

I snuck out one of the side doors, and slipped into Morty. After the rough morning I had, Morty was like a cozy blanket that I slipped on- good old reliable Morty. I headed to the Dot, of all places, not really wanting to go to the park. I got a cup of coffee, and settled myself into a booth in the corner.

Maybe if I told Clare I had a problem that I wasn't ready to tell her about it would pacify her. I could assure her that I didn't reject her because I didn't want to be with her in that way- that was the opposite of true. I could tell her that, no, I wasn't entirely over Julia, but it wasn't like I was harboring any romantic feelings toward her anymore. Sure, I missed her, but I had accepted the fact that I wasn't ever going to see her again. Clare had to realize that because of having her, I was so much healthier already. If she just stuck it out a bit longer I could completely change. I wanted to completely change. I hated living life the way I did.

And I needed Clare- needed her more than anyone in the world. She completed me in a way that I hadn't realized I needed to be completed, and when she wasn't missing a part of me was with her. Cheesy? Definitely. But I had never felt this way about anyone before. I had never loved another individual as much as I loved Clare.

Sitting in The Dot for those two hours I was able to convince myself that I could reason with Clare, and everything with end up okay. There was no possible way it couldn't be okay and that was that. So, I slipped out of the booth, threw my cup away, and climbed back into Morty.

I arrived back at Degrassi just in time for my lunch period. I quickly stopped by my locker to get my brown paper bag, and eagerly walked into the cafeteria. I deflated as soon as I saw our usual table empty. Adam must have been at the food drive again, but where was Clare? Was she really mad enough at me that she would ski lunch? I scanned the cafeteria once more, but Clare definitely wasn't there. I walked back to our lockers, checking for her there, but she was nowhere to be found. I stopped by the computer lab thinking Clare might have had some work to do, but she wasn't there either.

Something about this didn't feel right. My stomach flipped uncomfortably, clearly not at ease with the situation. I didn't think I would be able to stomach any food, so I walked back to the locker and shoved the sack in among the rest of the junk I was keeping in my locker. I made a mental note to take some of that home with me so I could find a better place for it in my room.

I went back to the computer lab and started to work on the English paper Dawes had assigned us today. I was so absorbed in the assignment that I hadn't noticed how much time had passed. The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, so I walked back to my locker with a heavy sigh.

I immediately brightened when I saw Clare standing in front of my locker expectantly- obviously waiting for me. I smiled, walking up to her. This was an ideal turn of events. "Clare?" I asked just to make sure she really was waiting at my locker.

"Eli," she addressed me, seeming much happier than she had been in English, "I understand why you were so weird last night."

I doubted that, but I couldn't help feeling elated that she seemed so much happier with me. I hadn't even apologized like I had planned to! "You're at my locker. Can I take this as a good sign?" I asked, smiling down at her.

"I know sending me home wasn't a rejection," Clare assured me happily, moving aside so I could get to my locker. I wondered what had caused this miraculous 360 turn in her thoughts. "It's because…you're messy," she continued.

Had I heard her correctly? I sure hoped I had not. This conversation had taken a weird turn, and I wasn't sure I liked it.

"I'm…messy?" I asked skeptically, testing to see if I had heard her correctly.

"But don't worry," she soldiered on, ignoring me as I disarmed the lock on my locker, "Because I'm good at dealing with junk. See?" She announced proudly as I flung open my locker, genuinely panicked.

It was gone…all gone. The papers, the old notebooks, Morty's old license plates, the random action figure Adam had given me as a gag gift; my chest started to heave. Where was it? I needed that stuff back, and I needed it now. If I didn't get it back something terrible was going to happen any second. A cold, dreadful shock froze me in place, chilling me to the bone.

"So much better, right?" Clare went on proudly, oblivious. How could she have done this? My hands started to shake with fear and frustration.

"What did you do?" I managed to choke out in a strangled whisper. This was not okay!

"I just thought you could see how nice it is," Clare answered as I dove in trying to account for my missing items. Every paper and piece of junk that was missing felt like another stab at my skin. This couldn't be happening. No, no, no, no, no! The rational part of my brain was shutting down giving way to panic- all I could feel was the ice cold panic locking around my heart, lungs, and other vital organs, squeezing the life out of me. Somehow, though I was still able to catch the last part of Clare's sentence: "and then I could help you with your room."

I turned my frantic gaze on her for just one second. "My…my room?" I asked, incredulous. How did she know my room was a mess? No, no, no- this couldn't be happening. But it was, and I was starting to hyperventilate. This was worse than sleeping in my room every night; worse than hell. I was standing on the edge of a cliff, and Clare was poking me over the precipice- leading me to my breaking point. How had Clare done this to me; of all people? I trusted her more than anyone in the world. How had she allowed this to happen? I started throwing the things around in my locker trying to recreate my mess, but to do that I needed the rest of my stuff. Where were the rest of my things! "How…?" I trailed off, at a loss for words. There were no words!

"It doesn't matter," Clare told me anxiously, confused by my reaction. "Eli, Eli, don't be embarrassed," Clare tried to comfort me, but her talking was only numbing. It wasn't helping at all. It was making it worse. I was quivering all over now.

"This is so wrong," I murmured to myself, completely deranged. The words weren't adequate though; this was worse than wrong. It was catastrophic. My world was crashing down around me, piece by piece.

"It's just me. We can deal," Clare told me gently.

Then, I exploded. "No, I can't!" I yelled full volume, the rest of my world crashing down around me, "I can't." It was true. I couldn't deal. I had been trying for a year to deal, but it wasn't working. I was damned to live like this forever, and I certainly wasn't dragging Clare down with me. Except that this was her fault- all her fault. How could she? I couldn't wrap my mind around it. My thoughts were racing faster than a freight train. I could barely comprehend what was going on around me. "Do you know what this means?" I asked Clare, sure that she didn't. She had no idea what she did to me by cleaning my locker. She thought she was helping. "Someone's getting hut," I told her desperately.

Just then, I spotted a big blue trash can. That had to be where my stuff was. I needed it back, now! I ran to it, throwing the lid off violently.

Clare followed, still not understanding. "You're not making any sense," she told me. How could I make sense when my world had just ended…again? The first time had been bad enough, learning that Julia was dead, but now this? Now someone else was going to get hurt too, and I couldn't stop that from happening either!

I started to gather my papers in a frenzy. "Get away, please, just get away," I couldn't stand for Clare to witness this any longer than she already had. I needed to be left alone to go to pieces.

"Eli, Eli, you have to calm down," Clare begged me. The concern saturated her voice. "Look at me," She begged, "calm down."

I couldn't take this anymore. She was tugging on my arm, hindering me from gathering my things. I needed to be alone, and I needed to get this stuff out of the trash and back into my locker where it was safe, so I could keep everyone else safe too. Why the hell didn't she understand that! "I can't believe this!" I snarled at her, making her take a few steps back. She looked at me questioningly with hurt clearly readable in her eyes, but if she didn't get it now, she never would. I needed her to be gone. "Go away," I plead with her one last time, tears springing to my eyes, "just, just, just go away." I continued to mumble to myself as Clare finally left me alone.

"I'll be okay," I told myself over and over again, not even believing it for a second.

**So, I kind of scared myself writing this. My sister interrupted me as I was in the middle of Eli's freak out, and I snapped at her as if I were him. Maybe it's because I like to act, so I just get so into characters. I don't know. **

**Either way, I'm curious to know if your guys think I wrote it well enough. If not, it's okay to tell me so- I won't be offended. **

**I am really excited to write the next part. Hopefully, I'll have it up on Saturday…maybe Sunday. **

**Thanks for reading, guys. This chapter turned out longer than I expected it would. So, you're all awesome just for putting up with my excessive rambling. **

**Ta, Ta for Now! =) **


	4. Eli's Room

**Okay, here it comes, the last part of Umbrella. I'm so psyched to write this, and I really hope you guys enjoy reading it!**

**I haven't done a disclaimer in a while, or so it feels like, so in case anyone forgot: I don't own Degrassi. Or Clare. Or Eli. Weird, right? ;)**

**Anyway, here goes:**

I raced back and forth; shoving the stacks of my papers from the trash can back into my locker. With each trip I felt the tension in my chest ease up bit by bit, allowing me to breathe again; my world slowly assembling itself again. The bell had already rung, and the hall was empty of students, so I was left alone with my thoughts.

No wonder I hadn't told Clare about my hoarding- her knowing, as I had predicted, was a horrible disaster. I couldn't let her near my room. As much as I _wanted_ the stuff out of there I _needed_ it to stay in my room even more. It seemed that Clare was determined to rid my life of everything that held me together.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to center myself as I took stock of what I had returned to my locker, but my head was still buzzing from my breakdown.

"Mr. Goldsworthy," Principal Simpson approached me, Clare trailing behind him. Her eyes held fear and concern, and the moment I looked into them I realized the implications of what had just happened. Clare would never want to talk to me again. I had caused that fear in her eyes; Clare was afraid of me. "Are you okay?" Simpson asked tentatively. 

I didn't know how to accurately answer that question. Was I okay? Obviously not, but I wasn't freaking out anymore which was probably the reason for his inquiry. "Everything's fine," I mumbled, adverting my eyes from Clare's face. "I just…well, it doesn't matter. It's better now. I fixed it."

Simpson eyed me skeptically. "Are you sure?"

Suddenly, I was angry again. This was none of his business, and, if I had to guess, it was Clare's fault that he was even involved at all. I didn't want to talk to him, or answer his questions. Heat rose to my face as I silently cursed Clare for bringing the principle into this. I could handle this just fine. "Positive," I spat at him. He looked shocked by the venom in my voice, and I took a deep breath. I wasn't in complete control of my emotions yet. I was still irrational, I realized. "Sorry," I mumbled after a moment, looking down at the floor.

"Eli," Simpson sounded concerned, "maybe it's best if you take the rest of the day off. I'll notify your teachers." I nodded weakly. That sounded like a good idea. I didn't trust myself around people right now- not to mention I had a lot of things to think through. So, I sifted through my locker, found my backpack, and threw it over my shoulder. "Excellent," Simpson said, gesturing to the front door, "I call your parents and let them know you're on your way home." He smiled at me, and then turned to Clare. "Thanks for informing me of this, Miss Edwards. Please get to class." He handed Clare a late slip, and walked back to his office.

Clare and I stood awkwardly in the hall for a moment. After a pause, I glared at her. "Eli," she whispered softly, confused. Clare stepped forward to place her hand on my arm, but I jerked it away. "We need to talk." She sounded hurt.

"Now's not really a good time," I told her sarcastically. Truth was though I didn't ever want to have this conversation with Clare.

"Well, just let me know when." Her voice was so calm and understanding that it made feel exactly the opposite. Why wasn't she running like crazy in the other direction? This didn't make any sense, and it was making me anxious. My head was such a jumbled mess of confusion that I couldn't form coherent thoughts any longer. So, I turned away from Clare and walked out the doors of Degrassi.

Once I was inside Morty, I quickly drove home. I parked my hearse on the curb, but I didn't dare get out because I felt myself losing it.

And just as the thought entered my mind I broke down completely. I couldn't even turn the hearse off before the tears were running down my face. How had I let myself lose control earlier? I was living a miserable excuse for a life, and I had just denied the only person in my life that ever tried to help. I cried because I didn't know what to do about Clare. I wasn't ready to clean the junk out of my life, but keeping the stuff around was never going to bring Julia back to life, either.

I just let the tears stream noiselessly down my face as I realized how dependant I had actually become on my hoarding. Somehow I had convinced myself that I could stop if need be, and that I never really needed it. How wrong I had been. I needed the junk in my locker and my room like drunks need alcohol. It was my coping mechanism, and if I quit I would be turning my life upside down.

I took a deep breath, turned Morty off, and shoved the new information out of my head. I just didn't want to think at the moment. I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift off into nothingness.

XXX

When I woke I looked around, confused. I realized that I was still in Morty, and I checked the time. I had been out for an hour, and it had started to rain.

I rubbed my eyes and stared dejectedly out into the rain. What now?

As I was thinking that, I head Morty's passenger door being opened, and my mom slipped into the hearse. It seemed so ironic that I was in a hearse now…I felt so dead inside that Morty was obnoxiously appropriate. "Oh, wow, it is coming down in buckets," my mom's cheerful voice pierced through my pity party. She adjusted herself, getting comfortable. I sensed that she wanted to talk. "You better come inside before it gets worse," she warned me. I couldn't even look at her, let alone answer. "I was thinking of making grilled tempeh for dinner," she continued, trying to get me to respond in some way. "I thought maybe you would like to call Clare, and invite her over," she suggested, trying to be sly about mentioning Clare.

I shook my head. Clare had seemed willing to figure things out when we were in the hall earlier, but she had plenty of time now to realize that she was better off without me. And I should respect that. I would just bring more trouble into her life anyway. She didn't need me. I decided to finally grace my mom with a response. "I'm not sure that would work…," I trailed off, my sarcasm weak. The pain in my voice overruled my attempt at humor.

"Are you going to tell me what happened between you two?" My mom asked getting to the real reason she had come to disturb my thoughts.

There was a lot that happened between Clare and I that I just didn't want to talk about at the moment. Reliving the details of the past twenty four hours would have been excruciating, not to mention too much had happened to fit into a simple conversation. So, I decided to stick with a truth that answered my mom's question, but gave nothing away at the same time. "Clare and I…we're, uh, we're just not going to work out." The words drove holes through my chest, leaving me empty. I wished things between Clare and I could work, but she didn't deserve the life I was living. Clare deserved real happiness. And I couldn't give her that.

"You seemed so happy with her," my mom persisted as if reading my mind.

"I was," tears sprung to my eyes again. I had been genuinely happy with Clare, but it hadn't been enough to fix me. Nothing would ever be enough to fix me, and that was the real problem here. Clare couldn't fix my problem even though she knew about it now, and her knowledge was going to rip us apart. Actually, it already had. "But now she knows the real me," I filled my mom in.

I saw my mom nod sympathetically. "Your dad told me she came over." I squeezed my eyes shut. I hadn't even thought about that. Of course, I was busy freaking out, but I couldn't believe my dad had let Clare in. He knew no one was allowed in my room. But I couldn't blame him…it was my fault my room was the way it was, after all.

I thought about my room; my own personal hell. "It sucks living like me mom," my voice came out strangled, "It's hell." I had never said the words out loud before; I was the only one who witnessed the extent of my pain. As the words escaped my mouth I deflated. I had been holding them so close to me for so long it felt weird to have them outside of me. It felt good.

"I tried to help you, baby boy," my mom defended herself. And she had, at first- she tried to send me to therapy, when everything had started out, but I refused to go. I didn't think I needed it. And eventually, after I had put up so many fights, my parents stopped fighting back. "I guess somehow we just let you get a little bit…lost," she whispered the last word. I heard the remorse in her voice. She had never wanted to let it get this far, but it had.

"Lost in my own room," I said bitterly. I wouldn't wish the life I was living on anyone- not even Fitz. It was terrible to be sucked up by sadness; having every part of you overshadowed by pain.

"It's been a long time since you lost Julia," my mom ventured, "do you ever think you could change?" She asked me.

"And what if I forget her?" I yelled back questioningly. I hadn't even thought about my response, it slipped out of my mouth without my consent. But that was my biggest fear wasn't it- forgetting about Julia. That's why I hadn't let Clare all the way in, I realized. It wasn't that I was really afraid of her turning her back on me. If Clare and I were meant to be together we could work through anything…even this. No, I hadn't let Clare all the way in because I didn't want her to wipeout Julia completely. That wasn't fair to Julia, and I had always been the one person in her life that was good to her. Forgetting Julia felt like betraying Julia.

"Oh, Eli, that stuff in your room, that's not Julia," my mom told me gently, "Julia's in here." She pointed to her heart before continued, "And she would want you to be happy."

I leaned forward on my steering wheel, considering what my mom had said. I wish I could just accept her words- to know that the stuff in my room was not Julia, and allow that to empower me to change.

The thing I didn't have to consider, though, was that Julia would want me to be happy. She always had, even when she couldn't be herself. So what did I have to do in order to be happy- genuinely, _completely_ happy?

I turned the question over in my mind just as the rain slowed, and then crawled to a stop. The sun broke through the clouds illuminating Morty's interior. If I believed in that kind of shit, I would have said that it was an omen of the cheesiest kind. And even though I didn't believe, it still made me relax just a little more.

"Mhmm," My mom smiled at the sun. "Come on, baby, let's get you inside. Simpson called. I heard you had a long day at school. But don't worry; you have a long weekend of recuperation ahead of you." She grabbed my hand and squeezed.

I sighed, trying to clear my mind of all this controversy for just one minute. "Okay," I mumbled reluctantly, pushing myself out of the car and onto the wet pavement. I took a deep breath, allowing the thick air to surround me and fill my senses.

"I'll get you something to eat," my mother said, meeting me in the street as slinging her arm around my shoulders. I allowed myself to be pulled into the house, toward the kitchen. My mom ordered me to sit down at the table as she whipped up a quick sandwich for me. I ate it, only half paying attention to my mom's prattle about therapy, and finding help. All I really wanted to do was escape to my room and think everything over. My brain needed to process, and then come up with some solution.

As soon as I was done eating I stood, and excused myself. "Sorry, Mom," I started, "I just really need to be alone to sorts things out. Thanks for everything, though." I hoped she knew I was referring to the talk in Morty, and didn't think I was being a sarcastic bastard like I usually am.

I walked slowly to my room, removed the padlock, slipped inside, and locked the door. I took in a huge breath, and turned to face my mess.

'_This stuff is not Julia_,' I tried the sentence out inside my mind, '_and getting rid of it does not equate to forgetting her_.'

I sounded unconvincing, weak. So, I tried saying it out loud: "This stuff is not Julia, and getting rid of it does not equate to forgetting her."

I shook my head, I sounded like a fool. But, it was a start. I walked over to my bed and didn't even bother to remove any of the crap that was perched on top. Instead, I just flung myself over it, staring at my ceiling.

I took myself back to the question I asked earlier- what did I have to do in order to be happy? Several impossible answers came to mind; all of them involving a time machine so I could bring Julia back to life.

I thought about how my life would be different if I could actually do that. For starters, I never would have developed this nasty habit. I would have never have known such excruciating pain. I wouldn't have written some of my best work. I would have never gone to Degrassi. I would have never met Adam…or Clare.

The idea of never meeting Clare took my breath away. Not knowing Clare was like not having the sun in my life. No, Clare wasn't perfect, but she completed me in ways I didn't know I was lacking. She kept me centered- she was calm and calculating, I was impulsive. She liked to follow the rules; I thought they needed to be broken every now and then. She was religious, I was an atheist. She was optimistic, I was a pessimist. Clare was caring, compassionate, and sweet. I only wished I could be those things.

As compassionate and caring as she was, why had I ever doubted the fact that she would help me if only I let her?

But would I let her? It seemed like allowing Clare to fix me was like giving up Julia completely. This had turned into some mental war of Clare versus Julia.

But Julia was dead. So why was I even having this fight in my head? I have admitted to myself several times before that I love Clare with an intensity that my emotions for Julia could never touch. It wasn't like I was settling for Clare because I couldn't have Julia. On the contrary, sometimes it seemed like Julia was supposed to die in order to eventually lead me to Clare. It's been said before: everything happens for a reason. Julia and I might have realized eventually that, even though we loved each other, we just weren't meant to spend the rest of our lives together. But that didn't necessarily mean I would have met Clare if Julia was still alive. Julia's death was like a catalyst- enabling Clare and I to meet. So, there was my answer. Clare made me genuinely happy, and if I was able to work past my problems we could be completely happy, too.

Julia's death still made me sad, and I wished she was still alive so that we could continue being friends…but that wasn't happening. And all this stuff in my room was just an unwelcome reminder that Julia lost her life.

It had come time to ask myself the hardest question of all: Was I willing to work past my problems? Was I able to put Julia to rest in my mind; let go of the idea that she could still be here. Could I stop harassing myself with hypotheticals such as 'should have', 'could have', or 'would have'? Could I let myself be truly, completely happy with Clare?

I looked around my room and I wanted nothing more than to leave; to race to Clare this very second and talk things out. I knew deep in my gut that I had found my answer: I wasn't ready just yet, but I wanted to become ready. I wanted to change. And that was enough for me to change out of my school uniform, run out of my room without even bothering to padlock it, and race over to Clare's in Morty.

XXX

Even though the ride to Clare's house was a short one I was still able to work myself up. There were so many ways my just showing up at Clare's house could be disastrous. For example, what if Clare's parents were home? I didn't think they would take too kindly to my presence considering they probably weren't over the dinner. Not to mention, now probably wasn't the best time for me to be there. They were all probably trying to work out the divorce.

Something else that terrified me was what if Clare had decided she didn't want to talk? Maybe she realized that I wasn't worth the trouble, and when she found me on her doorstep she would slam the door in my face.

As I parked Morty on Clare's curb I allowed myself to deliberate for one more second. Was I really ready to do this? I looked at the house; noticed Clare's parent's cars were nowhere to be seen. That took care of one of my fears.

I would just have to find out how the other one would resolve itself.

I climbed the few stairs that led to Clare's door, took a deep breath, and knocked. I hoped she was home- I didn't think I would have the courage to do this again if I had to come back later.

Just as I was thinking that the door slowly opened to reveal Clare in a blue top that complimented her eyes perfectly. When she registered that it was me I waited for the angry sneer to arrange itself on her face, but instead her eyes filled with concern. "Hey," she greeted me softly, "what are you doing here."

My fear disappeared as she opened the door a little wider. Instead of answering, I plowed inside. All my nervous energy was bouncing around inside me, and I didn't know if I could trust my voice; I didn't know what to say. I just walked into her living room and placed myself on the couch trying to calm my nerves even a little.

Clare closed the door, following me without hesitation. She slid onto the coffee table so she could sit directly in front of me. I couldn't look her in the eyes just yet, but I could feel her dissecting the emotions on my face- she was waiting patiently for me to explain.

I decided it was best to start at the beginning. Tell her why I was the way I was. "It started after Julia died," I told her; my voice trembled just a little, "the, uh, not throwing stuff out." Before I knew it tears had sprung to my eyes again. You'd think my tear ducts would have had enough for one day. Clare looked like she didn't know how to feel about my confession yet, but the concern never left her eyes. I decided to elaborate, give her a reason for why I had reacted the way I had this afternoon. "Every time I try to throw out something…I feel like I'm going to die. Or, or, someone else is going to- someone I love." My voice broke, and my hands, which were clasped in front of me, started to shake. I looked Clare in the eyes- I had never told anyone that. I had always allowed myself to bottle up my feeling, never daring to even write down the things like this. They were just too scary to think about, let alone make permanent record of.

But telling Clare felt good. She didn't look at me like I was crazy, like I was expecting her to; she looked at me with sympathy. She also looked relieved to finally understand what I had been hiding. This was the last wall in our relationship; the only thing that had kept us from being as close as possible, and I had just demolished it. "Have you ever heard of hoarding?" Clare asked me gently.

I had, but no one had ever diagnosed my problem out loud- not even me. I took comfort in the fact that it was Clare who was the first to know. In a way it seemed like just another connection we made drawing us closer together; making it impossible to separate us.

"Yeah," I told her, "my mom said she would take me to talk to someone- a therapist or something." The words were flowing faster now. It was as if now that I had started sharing them, they never wanted to be boxed up again. They had to be let out. I stared deep into Clare's eyes, and what I saw there only made my next words all the more true. "I want to change," I stated confidently. I really did.

Clare face grew even more tender. "That's good, Eli," she told me happily, "that's really, really good." She paused, the intensity surrounding us growing with each passing second. I was grateful that I had allowed myself to come over here and tell her. "If you need anything," she continued, "just ask me, okay?"

I exhaled, relieved. She was making this so easy for me. I would never be able to get through this with anyone else but Clare. She was just so impossibly understanding. "Here's what I want, Clare," I started, hesitant to use the word need- I didn't want to demand anything from her, "I want you to not give up on me." I was pleading her with my eyes. I had never poured my heart out like this, and it left me shaken to my core, but in the best way. I had never experienced anything like it before. "You're the only thing that makes me feel like…I could ever get better." Truer words had never been spoken.

Clare's eyes welled up with tears, touched by my words. She reached down and clasped both my large hands in her own pale, tiny ones. They were warm, soft, and best of all, comforting. She gave a gentle squeeze. "Then I guess you're stuck with me," she whispered, saying exactly what I needed to hear, "just like you said I was stuck with you." She gave me a small, loving smile before she quickly shifted herself from the coffee table to my lap. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I felt a single tear drop fall from Clare's eyes onto my hot skin. I quickly latched onto her, wrapping my one arm around her waist, and clutching onto her shirt in between her shoulder blades. She squeezed me tight, surrounding me with love. I moved my hand from between her shoulders and grabbed onto my other arm so I could squeeze Clare as close as humanly possible. She was my safe harbor, and I never wanted to let go. I was overwhelmed with emotion.

"I'm so happy I came over to tell you about me," I whispered in her ear. "I almost didn't. I was afraid you wouldn't want to be with me anymore; that you would find me repulsive."

"I could never feel that way about you, Eli. And I'm really happy you came to talk to me, too. I was so worried about you since the locker incident earlier." I cringed, remembering, but otherwise was grateful for her words.

"So," I said, pulling away, but not letting Clare off my lap, "what now?"

Clare blushed, and opened her mouth. I paused, waiting for her to say something, but she closed her mouth again, too embarrassed to say what she was thinking.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "You know, Clare; I just took a major leap of faith, and spilled my guts just now. You can get over some embarrassment and tell me what you're thinking."

She nodded, keeping eye contact as she carefully proposed what we should do next. "I was wondering…if maybe, you know," she started flustered, "I could see your room. Without having to break in this time."

I considered it for a moment. The worst was over, and Clare had already seen my room, so it wasn't like taking her in there would have any doomsday repercussions. Still, the thought made me squirm a little. "What were you doing in there earlier, anyway?" I asked, curious.

Clare blushed deeper. "I was angry at you, and I wanted my watch back," she admitted.

I couldn't help it- I chuckled. It was hard to imagine that a silly, broken watch was the cause for all the turmoil and confusion in the last few hours. "You never cease to amaze me," I told her, kissing her on the nose. I still just couldn't believe that Clare was okay with all of this. It was like a dream come true.

"So, can we go see your room, or not?" Clare asked hesitantly.

"I believe that can be arranged," I whispered, grabbing her hand and pushing both of us off the couch. "Your parents won't mind if you go out for a few hours?"

"I'll write them a note, but I doubt they'll be back anytime soon. They're negotiating their condo." I gave her a questioning look. "Oh, good news, they are going to let me stay here after all." Clare gave me a triumphant smile.

"That's great," I smiled back. Clare quickly jotted a note to her parents, and then together we got in Morty.

"So, I have a question," Clare ventured as I pulled away from the curb.

"Ask me anything," I told her honestly. I would no longer keep secrets from Clare- it felt too good having her know everything about me.

"When you wouldn't let me spend the night…it was because of your room, right?"

She sounded so insecure, like there was actually any possibility that I had rejected her because I didn't find her attractive. "Mostly," I admitted, "but I wasn't lying to you when I said it had to do with your faith. I know I don't believe in that stuff, but you do. I wouldn't want to take advantage of your vulnerability, Clare. You would have regretted it in the morning. I know you."

"You're probably right," she said quietly, after thinking about it for a moment. "Thank you."

I parked Morty outside my house, and turned to her. "Thank _you_, Clare. You're being so mature and easygoing about my problem, and it means more to me than you could possibly know. You're my best friend."

A large smile broke out on her face. "And you are mine. I'm so happy to have you in my life, Eli, and nothing is going to change that."

"Promise?" I asked her, making sure she meant it.

"Promise," she assured me, then leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. "Now, let go see this room of yours."

I lead her into my house, noticing that my parents were gone. My mom must have gone with my dad to the radio station- she liked to sit in every now and then. I paused outside my door, taking a deep breath.

Clare grabbed my hand and squeezed it. "If you're not ready, we don't have to go in."

"No, I want to take you in," I said, surprised that they were true, "I just…needed a moment. This is a big step for me."

"And I'm honored you're sharing this with me; letting me in," Clare smiled up at me.

"I wouldn't do this for anyone in the world but you, Clare-bear." And with that I opened up my door, leading Clare into my hell. It was strange to have someone inhibit the mess alongside me, but it was also comforting.

I could see Clare looking around, overwhelmed, but curious. She took several minutes to absorb everything that was in there. She even crawled over to my framed picture of Julia and examined it. "She looks so sad," Clare commented softly, so softly that I was sure she hadn't meant for me to hear. Then, she turned back to face me. "So, do you want to start?"

"Start what?" I asked, confused.

"Cleaning, silly," Clare said matter-of-factly. I could feel the color drain from my face.

"Now?" I croaked.

"Yes," she replied, determined, "just as a start. We don't need to clean the whole room tonight. We could just work on a few items. I know you can do this, Eli, and I'm here to help. There's no time like the present."

I looked around me; at my world shoved to fit in one tiny space. Was I ready to start cleansing my world? Earlier I had been sure I wanted to change, but I knew I wasn't quite ready yet. But with Clare looking at me expectantly, a welcoming smile on her face, I knew I didn't have to wait. I could do this now.

"Bring it on," I told her softly, ready to dive in.

XXX

Clare had found a cardboard box, and together we had started cleaning my room. We decided to start in one corner, just throwing away enough stuff to fill the box tonight. Clare was perched on my bed, holding the box in her lap. I was anxious throwing anything away, and I put up a fight every single time. The candy bar wrapper, my old English essay from my sophomore year, a school diorama, and old camera film were just a few of the things Clare convinced me I didn't need. I had to hand it to her; she was very good at talking me out of keeping the useless junk.

I had just picked up an old, broken binder that I was unwilling to pitch. "You have new binders," Clare reminded me.

"But maybe I need another one," I argued, knowing that I didn't.

"I'm pretty sure your parents would buy one for you," Clare reasoned, bringing up another valid point. She was just what I needed. Although I was still putting up a fight, clinging onto my junk for dear life, cleaning my room no longer seemed like an impossibility. Clare would help me through it.

Still…, "Maybe someone else could use it," I offered.

"It's just stuff, Eli," Clare said, telling me, again, exactly what it was I needed to hear. I paused, reminding myself of what my mother had said earlier: the stuff in my room was not Julia. This binder wasn't her, and throwing it away wasn't going to hurt anybody. So, reluctantly, I let the binder slip into the box. This was so emotionally draining, and I was pretty sure I couldn't take anymore tonight. So I plopped down on the corner of my bed.

"Says the girl who broke into my room to get a busted watch," I joked with her. No matter how many times I poked fun at her, though, I was still extremely appreciative that Clare was here doing this with me. Of all the ways to spend a Friday night she had chosen this. It baffled me.

"If it means something keep it," Clare shrugged, defending herself.

As Clare placed the almost-full box of things on the ground, sensing I was done for the night, I looked around. Where had I put Clare's watch? She deserved to have it back since it did mean so much to her, and I wanted to show her how much all of this meant to me. I glanced in all the nearby piles of junk until I found her watch. I grabbed it, and placed it in her hand. "Then, I think you should keep this," I told her.

She looked down at the watch, smiling fondly. She didn't speak for a few moments, but when she looked back up at me, she handed back the watch. "I want you to have it," she said, emotion making her voice thick. I looked at her questioningly. Was she sure? "I need to let go of some stuff, too," she assured me, as if she had heard the thought rolling through my head. I took it back from her, loving that she still wanted me to have it.

Clare looked back down at her hands, her breath catching in her throat. I stood up, giving her a moment to compose herself, and surveyed my room. There was just so much stuff…

"This is going to take forever," I mused. Although, it would go by quickly with Clare by my side. I couldn't fathom how lucky I was to have her in my life.

"I'm here," she said, reinforcing my thoughts, "as long as you need me."

I looked over at the beautiful girl sitting on my bed. For a split second I imagined there was a God and there were miracles. Because, a god or not, Clare was my own personal miracle.

"You could work hard enough to earn a whole year of free stays at the Hotel Eli," I joked with her.

She smiled. "What is it, four stars?" she shot back playfully.

I jumped on the bed, sitting next to her. "Once it's ready," I assured her, "and you are." I added the last part softly, my insides quivering. It would be amazing if one day Clare could spend the night at the Hotel Eli without regrets.

"Maybe someday," Clare conceded, making my heart skip a beat. We locked eyes, and I leaned down toward Clare. She looked so perfect right then. Her eyes were shining and her bangs hung down, framing her face perfectly. It was amazing how much I loved her. Clare moved forward, meeting me halfway. Our lips touched, and it was nothing like any of the other kisses we had shared before. There was nothing holding us back anymore. We knew everything about the other, and it was like we were pouring our souls into that one kiss. I deepened it, letting my lips move in synchronization with Clare's just before she pulled away. Her eyes were shining so brightly.

Clare shifted, leaning her side against my legs, and placing her arm on top of my thigh. Her fingernails grazed my knee, and I placed my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to me. Our hands intertwined, and Clare head leaned against my shoulder. I leaned my head on top of hers', breathing in Clare's intoxicating scent. She looked up at me, and I saw that her eyes were reflecting back to me everything that I was feeling in the moment. Clare looked back down, smiling, dropping her head against my chest. I kissed her forehead softly.

"I love you, Clare Edwards," I told her out loud for the first time.

Clare glanced back up at me, tears springing to her eyes. "I love you, too, Eli. So, so much."

And with that I kissed Clare again…with all the love I had in my heart.

**Okay, so, that was by far the most challenging piece I have ever written. There was so much conflicting emotion, and I'm not sure if I conveyed it correctly. I trust you will all tell me how I did. I hope it's right because, like I said, it was very challenging. **

**Also, it's opinion time! I was thinking- Halo has such cute EClare moments, so I was wondering if you guys would be interested in my writing the episodes in Eli's point of view. There is so much room for me to make up cute scenes on between, and I have lots of ideas already. But I don't want to write it if you guys don't want to read it. So, let me know, okay? **

**I love you all. Thanks for reading! =D**


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